


The Pain of the Heart, the Pain of the Flesh

by TheatrePhantom



Series: Trans Dib for the Soul [4]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cutting, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Pining, Self-Harm, Trans Character, Trans Dib (Invader Zim), Trans Male Character, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheatrePhantom/pseuds/TheatrePhantom
Summary: When everything seems to be collapsing all around Dib and crumbling to pieces at his feet, he often finds himself turning to coping methods that are far from helpful.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Trans Dib for the Soul [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790959
Comments: 2
Kudos: 46





	The Pain of the Heart, the Pain of the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't incredibly graphic but this is about self-harm, so I included that warning regardless.

It was a strange feeling to want to desire bodily harm. Dib knew that _wanting_ to inflict pain upon himself, but that changed absolutely nothing about the situation. It didn't change that Dib felt so numb that the most he felt was when the dull razor ran over his thighs or sliced through the flesh around his hips. It didn't change the fact that Dib's father didn't love him. It didn't change the fact that he was trapped in the wrong body with the wrong voice and the wrong parts. It didn't change the fact that his best relationship was with the _fucking alien_ that was working to destroy him and his entire planet and it sure as shit didn't change the fact that Dib was beginning to harbour _feelings_ for the damn creature.

No. Knowing and acknowledging his own problems changed _nothing_. 

Dib knew that, were his father to discover his problems, he would throw him into a mental institute. He would disown him in a heartbeat if he knew how truly broken his son was and what an absolute failure he was not only to the family and the world but to himself as well. Were his father aware, he would _never_ have the chance to mend their relationship. He would never have the chance to fix things with himself and his father if he let him see this side of himself. 

If Zim discovered this weakness of Dib's- if the alien knew that he was self-destructive, that he did _this_ in his free-time- their weak, small friendship would fall apart. It was pathetic how much Dib cared about Zim when he knew that things could never work out between the two of them, even in a platonic sense. Their relationship was a fragile one. Sure, they shared things with one another, they relied upon one another, they supported one another just as much as they tore one another down, but they could never _truly_ be close. They could never be friends or boyfriends. Not when Zim was trying to destroy the very planet dib lived upon and not when Dib felt like he was constantly falling apart at the seams. 

With one hand, Dib slowly dragged the blade of the razor over his chest, running the sharp, glinting metal over the sensitive skin that covered his collarbone. His free hand tangled in his hair, tugging aggressively at the deep black strands and even pulling chunks of it free in his anguished attempts at making him _feel_ something. 

All around him, the world was a swirling, spiralling mess. 

Despite everything that Dib did on a daily basis to hold the valance of the very universe in place, he felt as though his life was completely out of control. No matter what he did, he couldn't make people see the truth that was right in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to ever make his father proud of him- to make his father accept his passions as well as the other aspects of his life. Despite all of his efforts, Zim would never stop attempting to tear the world apart and, because of that, he would never be able to pursue the romantic or platonic relationship he desired with the alien. Hell, he didn't even know if the attraction he felt towards Zim was romantic or platonic. He couldn't even tell if he liked Zim because he actually _liked_ him or because he was the only person who bothered to give him the time of day- the only person who didn't just brush him off like everyone else in his life constantly did. He couldn't even make himself feel comfortable in his own fucking body.

Dib's life was out of control and felt like, no matter _what_ he did, he couldn't ever seem to take the reigns and finally get everything under control.

Except for when he did this.

When Dib was pressing the sharp blade to his flesh, when he was scratching at his arms and throat, when he was biting at his fingertips, when he was ripping his hair out he felt _control_. He felt everything that he so desperately needed and desired. He finally felt something beyond the numbness that had developed from the overwhelming amounts of stress and pressure. He finally was able to control some aspect of his life, regardless of how small it was. What he was doing was small and pathetic- matching just how small and pathetic so many pieces of his life made him feel- but it was _something_. 

Somehow, the tears that stung in his eyes burned with a more intense fire than the pain of the razor slicing against his skin. 

Dib let out an irritated grunt. This was his time to take control of his life and make himself feel something under _his_ terms. Crying and feeling emotional distress was _not_ part of this and absolutely not something that he was going to pay attention to or put up with.

He pressed the sparkling blade deeper into his flesh, attempting to use the physical sensation to quell the emotions overwhelming him.

Glistening, crimson flowed from his veins, slipping through his fingers when his hands brushed up against the painful wounds scattered across his already broken body. It dripped slowly from the deeper wounds and beaded like slowly blossoming flowers at the shallower ones. The variation of the cuts made it "better"- keeping him on his toes and forcing him to focus on the task at hand, not even giving him the chance to let his mind wander to the darker thoughts permeating his mind. Regardless of the depth of the lacerations, they felt akin to a sweet release- a safety net of sorts.

What were a few more injuries across a body already marred with painful reminders? 

~~~

Dib was smart- at least in his opinion- and knew how to take care of himself- _also_ in his opinion. 

Once he had finished his _session_ , he carefully cleaned each and every wound with antiseptic- something that he almost felt too tired and emotionally drained to do. He knew the importance of it though, knew that, if he didn't take care of his useless body well enough, it would leave scars that would give away just how much of a mess he was. Begrudgingly, he cleaned and bandaged the wounds before dragging himself back to bed and flopping into the warm confined of the blankets and quilts piled atop its surface. 

Dib could have easily fallen asleep then and there and stayed like that for several hours, but, _as always_ , the universe had other plans for him and refused to let him take _anything_ into his own hands. 

Tapping upon the glass of his window drew a heavy groan from Dib's bitten lips and the man buried his head beneath the covers in an attempt to block everything out. 

Of course, the source of the tapping paid his desires no attention and merely pushed open the pane of glass regardless. Unsurprisingly, when the voice attached to the tapping rang through the room, it was one that Dib was all too familiar with, "Dib-Thing? Are you awake or are you recharging your pathetic human body?"

"I'm recharging," Dib muttered, refusing to come out from beneath his sheets.

Dib could feel an added weight joining him on the bed as Zim carefully lowered himself from the windowsill to join him in his room. "Most humans do not speak coherent sentences while recharging, so I find that hard to believe." His voice has a teasing lilt to it. 

In response to Dib's silence, Zim places a clawed hand atop the part of the blankets he suspected Dib's head was beneath, "Er, are you alright, Dib?"

"Do I _look_ okay?" Dib was too drained to form a more eloquent response to the question. He often felt like this after harming himself. Just... tired. Regardless of this exhaustion, he found himself leaning into the touch ever so slightly. It was nice to pretend he had something he never would- stability and love.

"is it a human ailment?"

"Something like that," Dib let out a dry, humourless chuckle. He didn't know how to explain what he was going through to anyone- let alone the alien sitting right next to him. Dib didn't even think he would be able to open up to someone with the same biology as he about this. It just wasn't that easy.

"Why so schmoopy?"

"Human shit."

After a long moment of silence, Zim tipped over onto his side, allowing himself to fall over to lay beside Dib, "What can I do to help with your human problem?" 

As much of a dick as Zim was most of the time, and as hostile as their relationship was in nature, even Zim understood problems that were bigger than the two of them. Despite being an Irken and being just as emotionally fucked as Dib was, he knew when things were too far. Dib appreciated that, even if he knew that it was nothing more and that it never could be. 

"I don't think anyone could help with... _this_." His life seemed far too messy for anyone to be able to put it back together again, regardless of the time and resources poured into it. His father had found that out the hard way.

Zim let out a huff, " _I_ am no pathetic human. I will help you through your problems, even if the other idiots in your species can't. I am the only one who's allowed to make you hurt."

Dib couldn't help but let out a small burst of laughter at that. Oh, if only Zim knew what he had been doing mere moments before he came tapping at his window. 

Zim let out a noise Dib could only process as a snort and wrapped his arms around Dib's blanket-cocooned frame, pulling him closer. He could have sworn he felt the alien nuzzling into him, but Dib wasn't dumb enough to believe that to be true. It was nothing more than his idiotic mind trying to cling to anything it could. 

"Cute that you think that, but I highly doubt it."

"You dare doubt the Almighty Zim?"

"I have since we first met."

Zim let out a quiet noise of disgust but said nothing else. 

After a few long moments of silence, Dib finally spoke, "Why are you still here?"

"Eh?"

"This isn't exactly productive or beneficial for you."

"But this _is_ something that humans do to help one another, right? It's similar to how our paks help us heal."

"You could say that, but we're enemies. Why do you want to help "heal" me in the first place?"

Zim just hummed.

Dib wanted nothing more than to believe that he had control over his life. He wanted to pretend that there was someone that cared about him and who he _truly_ was completely unconditionally. While that felt lightyears away from him, right now, it was easy to let himself think that, at least for a moment, he had a friend who cared about him and loved him like normal people his age. If only for a moment, he could convince himself that things weren't as bad as they felt. How could they be when he had a friend's arms wrapped around him like this? Things couldn't be this messed up when he had someone lying beside him and trying to "heal" him of an illness that the other didn't understand. 

At least, Dib would let himself feel that peaceful way for a few moments longer. 

"Space Boy?"

"Yes, Dib-Beast?"

"Thank you."


End file.
